


Never Be Like Them

by nyeh413peasants



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Body Worship, F/M, Honeymoon, Minor Character Death, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Sam Winchester Gives Oral Sex, Supportive Dean, Time Skips, Vaginal Fingering, body love, plus-sized character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 06:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyeh413peasants/pseuds/nyeh413peasants
Summary: You’d never felt deserving of much of anything.  That is, until you met Sam Winchester.





	Never Be Like Them

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe I’ve never written anything with a plus-sized reader for this fandom??? Fuck me??? Also, I went super crazy with the exposition. This was supposed to be only about 2k words. Oops. Also, not beta’d, so I apologize for any mistakes/inconsistencies.

You first met Sam Winchester in Vegas.  Your friends always described it as a meet-cute and never let it go.  You had been walking down the sidewalk, talking to your mother about something or other.  It wasn’t only the fact that you couldn’t remember, it was the fact that you had tried so hard to block out every conversation with her.  As emo as it sounded, she didn’t understand you and she never would.  It was the biggest reason why you moved to Vegas in the first place- to get away from her, out from under her controlling thumb.

 

So, you had been walking, growling into your phone in a heated argument when you bumped into a hard form, heat seeping over your front and causing you to curse.  You looked up, eyes meeting soft ones, and an apology written all over an even softer face.

 

The man was young.  He wore a tight-fitting t-shirt and had messy bangs covering his forehead.  You didn’t mean to be one of  _ those  _ girls, but you had to admit that he was pretty flawless.  You could hear him muttering an apology as well as your mother yelling on the other end of the phone, causing you to snap it closed and smile up at the man.

 

“Don’t even worry about it.  I should’ve been watching where I was going.  My fault,” you said, dabbing at the front of your soaked shirt with the pad of your index finger and counting yourself lucky that you had skipped wearing the white tank top.  No one wanted to see your body rolls, as your mother always said.

 

The thought of your mother chastising you made heat rise to your chubby cheeks and you looked away, but you could still feel the man’s eyes boring into you and then his voice reached your ears.  “I wish there was something I could do.”

 

You felt a laugh bubble up.  He was beating himself up way too much over spilled coffee on a blouse.  “Look, my apartment’s right over there.  This is Vegas.  People walk around with a lot more on the front of their clothing.  It’s fine.”

 

He chuckled and nodded.  “Well, sorry again.”  And with that, he walked past you, getting lost in the crowd.  You stared after him for a moment before shaking your head and speed-walking to your apartment.  While, yes, people had walked around with worse on their clothing, you still hated any kind of attention on you, so you made quick work of getting inside and changing.

 

You could recall telling your friends about the encounter, but after that, the mystery man was practically forgotten, dropped out of your mind like everyone else you had run into.

 

\---

 

The next time you had met Sam Winchester were less meet-cute.

 

You had received a call saying your mother had been killed in a gruesome accident, so gruesome that they wouldn’t even say what happened over the phone.  So, you had to pack up what little belongings you had and travel back to Indiana- the state you had strived so hard to get away from.  The state that had caused you so much grief and pain that coming back caused physical pain.

 

You stood in front of your childhood home, your mother never having moved away, even after you and your sister moved out, even after her divorce.  She never left.  The blue paint had long since chipped and you chewed on your bottom lip to keep the tears from coming to your eyes.  It was such a small thing, but carried such a weight to it that you couldn’t even begin to describe.

 

Your legs carried you to the front door, ripping the police tape off the door and opening it.  You weren’t sure if it had been left unlocked on purpose or if it had been a happy accident, but you weren’t about to question it.  Closing your eyes briefly, you turned the doorknob and opened the door, listening to the familiar squeak as light flooded into the living room.

 

Your breath caught in your throat as you noticed the blood stains on the floor, starting from the threshold and ending in the kitchen where most of it had pooled on the once pristine floor.  She had always loved her house being kept clean and you could already imagine what she would have to say if she saw it in such a state of disarray.

 

A few tentative steps into the house and you shut the door behind you, not wanting anyone to suspect anything by an open front door.  This was no longer a home, it was a murder house.

 

You traveled through the house, into the short hallway.  At the end used to be your sister’s room, larger than yours and exactly the way it had been left, though emptier.  You turned your head, breath catching in your throat as you walked to your old room.  The door was closed and you had to force yourself to open it, flinching when the loud sound disturbed the silence.

 

It was exactly the same.  You had left the sheets on the bed, some of your clothes in the hamper by the door.  It was all still there, as if your mother hadn’t touched it.  As if your leaving had hurt so much that she couldn’t even bear to come into your old room.  

 

You quickly became aware that there were tears on your cheeks as you kept still, just staring at the dark blue walls and ceiling.  It used to be your sister’s room when she went through her goth phase.  Everything dark.  Now, it was as if it was taunting you, telling you that you should have expected it.  You wondered who could’ve done such a thing and why, but you hadn’t talked to the police.  You had to see for yourself.

 

The front door opening again pushed you violently from your thoughts, your head turning so quickly that it gave you whiplash.  Had the murderer come to finish the job?  Had they been watching the house?  Fear tugged at your heart as you dived into your room, practically jumping to the closet and shutting yourself in, crouching down and clamping a hand over your mouth as you struggled to keep control of your breathing.

 

Voices reached your ears.  “I dunno, Sammy, maybe this isn’t our normal gig.”

 

“Don’t, Dean.  Three murders where the victims are torn apart?  All doors locked with no signs of forced entry?  This is right down our alley.”

 

“Yeah, maybe.  Why such a small town, though?  There’s nothing here.”

 

“That’s what we need to figure out.”  The voices were growing closer and you could hear the footsteps entering your room.  Stupidly, you made an involuntary sound as the steps neared the closet.  You clenched your eyes shut, body shaking violently as the curtain of your closet was suddenly ripped back.  “Freeze!”

 

“Please don’t kill me!” you sobbed before you could stop yourself, holding your hands in the air and keeping your eyes closed.  It felt as if your heart were about to leap out of your chest.  However, when no pain came, you risked it- you opened your eyes.  They landed first on a male with short hair before traveling up to a taller male with longer hair.  Your eyebrows furrowed as you took him in, recognition flickering.  “I know you.”

 

The male’s head tilted to the side as he looked at the other, confusion written all over his face.  His attention turned back to you.  “I don’t recognize you.”

 

You swallowed thickly.  “Six years ago.  Vegas.  We bumped into one another- literally- and there was coffee.”  Your face turned red as you ran your fingers through your hair nervously.

 

Recognition flickered in his eyes and he smiled softly.  “Yeah, I do remember you.”  He held out a hand, waiting until you took it before he helped you up.  “What are you doing here?”

 

You looked away as it all came back to you.  “My mom lived here.”

 

The men looked at one another again before the taller sighed.  “Look, I’m not sure how you’re going to take this, but- Okay, hear me out.”

 

“Sam.”

 

“It’s okay, Dean.  I have a feeling she’ll understand.  Look, the thing that killed your mother wasn’t human.  We aren’t sure what it is yet, but nothing has the ability to get into someone’s locked home and rip them apart.  It’s just not possible,” the taller- Sam- said softly.

 

You wanted to fight it, to call him crazy and tell him to get out or ask what his real business in your old home was, but there was something in his eyes that made you believe him.  Still, you couldn’t get the suspicion out of your voice as you spoke, “So, what, do you think it was the boogeyman or something?”

 

The shorter of the two- Dean- chuckled darkly at that before shaking his head.  “It’s no boogeyman, I can tell you that much.  We think it might be a shadow creature, one that’s being controlled and, trust me, they hate being controlled.”

 

“Shadow creature?  Okay, um, I need to sit down,” you muttered, sitting down on your bed which emitted a loud squeak as you rested your head in your hands.  Part of you had figured things went bump in the night.  You’d had… experiences.  There had been things that happened in your life that you couldn’t quite explain, but actually being sat down and  _ told  _ it was all real was something you had never expected.  Still, you took a deep breath and looked up at Sam and Dean.  “So, what can you tell me about these shadow creatures?”

 

“Well, technically they’re called Daevas.  They’re demons, but don’t need a host to attack anyone,” Sam began before his eyebrows furrowed at your expression.  “Maybe we can talk about this later.”

 

“No,” you growled, your fists tangling in the soft blanket on your bed.  “This thing killed my mother and the last exchange between us was a fucking argument.  I’m not letting this go.”

 

Dean looked to Sam before shrugging.  “You explain everything to her, I’m going to take a look around the house.”  With that, he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

 

You looked up at Sam, waiting and watching as he ran a hand through his hair and sat down on the bed next to you.  “There isn’t much else I can say on Daeva’s.  Dean and I have only run into them once and we almost lost our lives to them.  They were being controlled by a demon, which is what we think might be happening here.  What we need to figure out is why.  Why this area and why these people.  Can you tell me anything about your mom that might be important?”

 

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stood up.  “My mom and I weren’t close.  I got out of here at sixteen and haven’t looked back.  I don’t know what she got up to or if she were involved in anything.”

 

“Did she have any enemies?” Sam asked.

 

You let out a dry laugh.  “Who knows?  Like I said, Sam, I didn’t know anything about her.  I’m sorry I’m not more help.”

 

“It’s okay.  Look, is there anywhere you can stay?  I don’t think you want to be caught at the scene of the crime.”

 

Another laugh.  “Yeah, and what about you two?”

 

Sam smiled wryly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wallet.  “We have a cover.  Plus, we visited the police station and they didn’t say anything about potentially finding the daughter hiding in the closet.”

 

“Fair enough,” you said before reaching into your own pocket and pulling out your car keys.  “I’m staying at the Parkway Motel- room 3.  Let me know if you find anything.  I want whoever- whatever- did this brought down.”

 

\---

 

After the case with your mother, you didn’t see Sam again for three years.  There was a part of you that was thankful for that.  He made you feel things that you didn’t feel comfortable enduring, especially with someone that oozed the fact that he was a loner, set out to do a job and help the world.  You didn’t want to get involved with that, so you met a guy and fell in love.

 

You were happy- truly happy.  Sure, you knew what went bump in the night, but you were able to ignore it well enough.  You suspected the creatures probably didn’t see you as worth anything, which is why they didn’t attack.  Still, you purchased a hunting knife and learned to wield it, hoping that you would never actually have to use it.

 

Your luck had never been very good, though.

 

It was after a long day at work, dealing with customers that you really didn’t want to, but soon enough, you were off and ready to come home to your guy- your fiance.  The popping of the question didn’t happen to long prior, but it was still new enough that even thinking about it caused your cheeks to flame.

 

You walked up to your quiet house, unlocking the door and throwing it open.  “I’m home!” you called into the darkness, throwing your keys onto the table next to the door and wandering inside.  Your eyebrows furrowed when you didn’t hear a response, your hand automatically going to your thigh where you kept your knife holstered.  “Hello?”

 

As you walked further into the house, a loud dripping met your ears.  You could feel the fear gripping you tight, refusing to loosen the hold on your heart.  Your breath came out in short bursts as you reached the kitchen, practically tip-toeing inside before freezing as the scent of blood met your nostrils.  Tears jumped to your eyes as you forced yourself further inside the room, turning before the island in the middle before gasping, sinking to your knees.

 

He was on the floor, blood surrounding him and his eyes open wide, as if they had been frozen in a state of fear.  His face was pale and you knew- you just knew- that he was dead.  It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.  You wanted to scream, but couldn’t find the voice to do so.  You wanted to run, but your legs felt like jelly.  All you could do was sit there and sob.

 

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before you reached into your pocket and pulled out your cell phone, scrolling through the contacts to a number you never thought you’d have to call.  You made quick work of dialing and holding the phone up to your ear, trying to calm yourself down so you could get the words out.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Sam Winchester, right?” you asked, voice coming out a lot smaller than you had intended.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I’m not sure if you remember me, but you helped me out with my mom three years back.  Something happened again.  My- my fiance.  I just found him,” you said, feeling a lump rise in your throat and forcing you to stop talking.

 

“Where are you?” Sam asked quickly, apparently remembering exactly who you were.  Or perhaps it was how he acted with everyone that called when they were in trouble.  You weren’t sure, but it helped knowing he cared.

 

“Vegas.  332 West Baker’s Street,” you said softly, swiping at your cheeks to get rid of the tears.

 

“Be there in a day,” Sam said before the line went dead.

 

You lowered your phone from your wet cheek and sniffled before dialing 9-1-1.  The last thing you wanted to do was just leave the body there to rot.  You made quick work of reporting everything, though you knew no man could rip out a man’s chest like that.  It had to be a monster, one of the things that went bump in the night.  One of the things that you had stupidly ignored.

 

Eventually, the police came, whisking your fiance away and taking you in for questioning.  They believed you didn’t do it, after all, who would have the strength to do what they did?  They let you go soon after and you walked to the motel, welcoming the air surrounding you, the wind blowing your hair around as you walked.  You tried not to think about what you had seen, about everything that happened.

 

As you arrived, you saw it.  The ‘67 Impala parked in one of the spaces.  Your eyebrows furrowed, recalling Sam saying they would be there in a day.  For a moment, you wondered if it could possibly be someone else, but knew that coincidences didn’t happen.  Not in your world.

 

You walked up to the door the Impala was parked in front of and knocked loudly, stepping back when Sam answered the door.  Relief flooded his face as he pulled you inside.  “You scared the hell out of me.  You weren’t answering your phone.”

 

“Sorry.  I turned it off while the police were interviewing me and forgot to turn it back on,” you responded, giving Dean a small wave as you talked before wrapping your arms around yourself.  “So, what in the hell did I do?”

 

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

 

“I mean I apparently did something to piss these things off, so what is it?  Was it the fact that I didn’t believe?  Am I that shitty of a fucking person?” you hissed, tears filling your eyes again.  You wanted to stop crying for once.  You hated being so emotional over everything.

 

“First, you aren’t a shitty person.  Second, these things just happen.  They happen to good people and there’s no stopping it.  You haven’t done anything wrong, these creatures just want to ruin lives,” Sam responded, resting a hand on your shoulder.

 

Dean stood up at that, setting down a bottle of beer you hadn’t realized he’d had in his hand.  “Well, you two are obviously having a moment so I’m just gonna- yeah, just gonna go.  Have fun, Sammy,” he said with a wink before grabbing his jacket and leaving the room.

 

Sam rolled his eyes.  “Don’t listen to him.  Sensitivity’s never really been a strength of his.”

 

You smiled.  “Obviously, he really wants you to get laid.”

 

“He looks out for me, though, despite really only thinking with his dick.  I don’t know what I’d do without him,” he said, smiling toward the door.

 

“I wish I was that close with my sister, but the moment we could get out, we got out.  We never really got close,” you said, sitting down on one of the uncomfortable motel beds.

 

“Well, when you’re raised in the life, it’s hard to not grow close to one another, especially when you don’t have the option of getting close to others.  We don’t really have the healthiest of relationships.”

 

“Do any siblings?” you asked with a small laugh.  Talking to Sam took your mind off your dead fiance, it helped ease the pain of it all.  But you weren’t sure how to feel about that.  It almost felt like a betrayal to his memory.  Sucking in a breath, you stood up, crossing your arms over a chest as if creating a barrier.  “So, do you think it’s another Daeva?”

 

Sam shook his head.  “No, a Daeva would’ve left more… pieces behind.  We stopped and visited the morgue before coming here and the heart was missing.  We think it’s a werewolf.  Now, do you have any idea who could’ve done this?”

 

You started to shake your head before freezing.  “His ex.  She was a crazy bitch, she probably got someone to do it.  Or maybe she did it herself.  I dunno.”

 

“It’s a good lead.  I’ll see what we can do.  Wait here?” Sam asked.

 

You nodded.  Part of you wanted to help, but you knew you’d be of no use.  You’d only get in the way and you weren’t about to get Sam or Dean hurt just because you wanted a little vengeance.  So, Sam left and you found yourself alone in the motel room, feeling more than a little awkward.  It was strange being inside someone else’s world, even if it were something as simple as just standing in a room.  Part of you wanted to explore and, while you were nosy, you didn’t want to be caught snooping.

 

Instead, you settled down on one of the beds and turned on the TV, trying to get your mind off of everything that happened.  Soon enough, your eyelids began to droop and you found sleep overcoming you, dragging you down under.

 

You awoke to the low sound of growling in your ear.  Your eyelids fluttered open before you screamed, struggling to get up, but not before the creature lunged at you, pinning you down onto the bed, a trail of saliva traveling from the creature’s mouth and onto your cheek.

 

You turned your head as you struggled to free yourself, managing to get one arm loose as you quickly grabbed at your knife, pulling it free from its sheath and slashing at the creature.  It howled as the blade cut open the skin, blood spurting as it fell backward off the bed.  You made quick work of getting up, climbing on top of it and, without thinking, taking the knife above your head before bringing it down to the creature’s chest, listening as it howled and being thrown into the wall as it thrashed around before going completely still.

 

The door opened, Sam and Dean crashing in, guns at the ready.  They froze at the sight of you with a bloody knife and a dead creature on the floor.  Dean lowered his gun, a small smile appearing on his face.  “Damn.”

 

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, rushing over to help you up.

 

Your body shook violently, but you nodded your head anyway, a smile of your own appearing on your face.  “That was fucking crazy.”

 

“It’s a good thing you had a silver knife, otherwise you would’ve been fucked,” Dean said, walking over to the body and kneeling.

 

“Dean.”

 

“What?  It’s true.”

 

Sam shook his head before he too went over to the body, kneeling next to it before looking up at you.  “Do you know this person?”

 

You looked closely and your stomach dropped.  “Y- yeah, it’s my coworker.  D’you think she’s the one that killed my fiance too?”

 

“Most likely.  I bet she wanted to get you too, but couldn’t when she saw you weren’t home.  She probably came here to finish the job.  Unfortunately, she didn’t know you were a badass,” Dean said, offering another smile.

 

You returned it before collapsing onto the bed, even more exhausted than you were before.  “I want to sleep for a hundred years,” you muttered, leaning back and sighing.

 

The bed shifted next to you.  “You did a great job, though.  Not many people would’ve been able to do what you just did,” Sam said softly.

 

You sat up, body still shaking slightly and smiled at Sam.  “Thank you.  Both of you.”

 

“Hey, don’t thank us.  You did all the work,” Dean retorted, standing up and resting his hands on his hips.  “I’m going to take care of this body now.  You two play nice.”  He threw the body over his shoulder and left the room, shutting the door tightly behind him.

 

Sam shook his head as his eyes rolled.  “He doesn’t let up.”

 

You stayed quiet, chewing on your bottom lip thoughtfully before speaking up.  “Hey, Sam?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

With a deep breath, you started talking, knowing that if you didn’t get it all out, you would chicken out or change your mind.  “I have nothing here for me anymore and clearly I can be taught how to fight.  Could I- could I come with you?”

 

Sam hesitated.  “This is dangerous work.  I don’t want you getting hurt.”

 

“But, if it means helping people, I’m willing to deal with a little pain,” you argued, sitting up a little straighter, just to show how serious you were.  “You said that’s what it’s about.  Saving people, hunting things.  I want to be a part of that.”

 

He smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes.  “I have a feeling you’ll try to stash yourself away anyway, even if I say no.  I’ll have to run it by Dean but, with a little training, I don’t see why not.”

 

\---

 

Another year passed, but this time, Sam Winchester stayed in your life.  You trained hard and fought even harder, gaining scars on your body and saving people.  It was all worth it.  And, the feelings you felt for Sam only grew stronger, growing more and more until either of you could take it.  You dated, but refused to have sex with him.  It wasn’t the time and you weren’t comfortable with doing so- not then.

 

It wasn’t until he asked you to marry him and the event happened- with only Dean there to see it- that you two decided to go on your honeymoon and give your everything to him.  You’d never been too inclined to go on a honeymoon, but Sam was excited and the last thing you wanted to do was see him lose that breathtaking smile- the smile you’d grown to love.

 

You gave Dean a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving with Sam, boarding a plane and heading off to Alaska.  It was a strange spot for a honeymoon, but you weren’t complaining.  It beat anything cliche, like Mexico or Hawaii.  As long as you were with Sam.

 

Once you touched down in Alaska, you made quick work of checking into your hotel- which was much nicer than the cheap motels you and the Winchester brothers had been staying in the past year.  It was clear that Sam wanted to make everything special.

 

Once the door to your room was closed, you pushed Sam against the wall, pressing your body against his.  You’d never been one to make the first move.  It wasn’t a secret that you weren’t comfortable with your body, but Sam deserved it.  He deserved to be shown how much you truly loved him, and you were willing to deliver.

 

He chuckled softly as your finger trailed down his cheek.  “This is a surprising turn of events,” he muttered, though his voice was huskier and you could feel the front of his pants tightening slightly.  You’d given him head and jerked him off multiple times, but it never went further than that.  While he didn’t say anything, you knew he wanted more.  He wanted you, and that was something you’d never had before, not even with your fiance.

 

“I’m full of surprises,” you responded, blushing as soon as the words left your mouth.  You’d endured porn and, apparently, all the cheesy lines porn had to offer to prepare yourself for this moment.  “Okay, that was stupid and I’ll never say it again.”

 

“No,” Sam said quickly, wrapping his arms around you.  “I like it.  But, uhm, are you sure you want to do this?  I know I haven’t asked, but you never really seemed into the idea of sex with me.  It’s not that I mind because I don’t, I’m just-” he stopped himself, shaking his head and looking away.

 

You smiled.  “I know it’s another super cheesy line but, honestly, it’s not you, it’s me.  Sam, I look at myself in the mirror and hate what I see.  I’ve always hated it.  And now, I look in the mirror and hate myself even more because I haven’t lost any weight despite hunting.  I just- I don’t see how you can love someone that looks like me.  I’m a beached whale.”  Admitting it hurt and you could feel your throat tightening slightly as a lump formed.

 

Sam’s face softened and he ran his long fingers through your hair.  “You are  _ not  _ a beached whale.  You’re beautiful.  Trust me.”  His hands traveled down your cheeks to your neck and ending at your chest.  “Can I show you?”

 

Your head tilted to the side slightly.  “Show me?”

 

“Show you just how beautiful I think you are.”

 

You were sure your face mirrored a tomato and that your voice would betray you if you were to even try to attempt talking, so you simply nodded, taking a step back as Sam guided you to the bed and laid you down, pressing his lips against yours in a slow, sexy kiss.  You gasped softly into it as large hands moved their way under your shirt, traveling over your rolls and up to your bra-clad breasts.

 

A shiver passed through your body as he cupped one, squeezing gently before sitting you up and pulling your shirt over your head.  Sam had walked in on you once while naked and you freaked out, not exactly meaning to, it was just a defense mechanism, but knowing he was about to see your all… well, it was different.  You were ready, but you weren’t.  You couldn’t deny that you wanted it, though.  You wanted Sam to have you.  You wanted to feel his hands all over your body.

 

He gave you a quick once-over, a smile appearing on his face.  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, pushing you back to the sheets.  You spread your legs so he could fit between them.  He moved graciously, fitting between your spread legs like a puzzle piece and leaning over you, your lips meeting once more.  As he kissed you, his hands squeezed your breasts again before lowering your bra, exposing them to the cool air in the room.

 

Gooseflesh rose over your arms and legs as you shivered again, this time for completely different reasons.  Sam kissed down your neck and chest before reaching your breasts, flicking his tongue around your nipple as his hand reached up to pinch the other gently.  Your mouth opened as a breathless moan escaped, your back arching slightly.  You’d had sex before, but it was nothing like this.  The man you’d been with hadn’t taken such care of you.  There was no foreplay.  But with Sam, God, with Sam it was different.  There was passion and love.

 

Sam focused on your sensitive nipples, smiling when he elicited a moan out of you.  Eventually, he lowered his head, taking one of the nubs into his mouth and licking around it before nipping gently.  You could feel yourself getting wet, so wet.  You were sure that if he kept going you would come, so you pressed your hands against his head and gently pulled him away.

 

“Too much?” he asked.

 

You shook your head quickly.  “N- no.  That felt good, I just don’t wanna come yet.”

 

He smiled.  “You don’t have to wait for me, you know.  Let it wash over you.  I’m not planning on leaving this room until you’ve came three or four times,” he growled, something deep in his voice that caused another shiver to flow through you, making you even wetter.  You were sure you were dripping.  “Can I take your pants off?”

 

You nodded enthusiastically, lifting your hips as he unbuttoned your pants and pulled them off your legs, tossing them over the bed and kissing at your knees, running his hands over your thick thighs.  He pressed kisses down your left thigh before starting over with the right.  As he neared your pussy, you had an urge to close your legs, but you forced yourself to keep them open.  You had to get over your fear.  He wouldn’t make fun of you, you just had to keep reassuring yourself.

 

“God, I can’t wait to taste you,” he whispered, standing up quickly and removing his shirt, tossing it over your jeans before removing his own, freeing his cock.  You could feel yourself staring, but didn’t bother taking your gaze away from it.  

 

Sam climbed back onto the bed, laying down on his stomach and resting his hands on your hips as he lowered his head, kissing at your inner thighs.  Your fingers clutched the sheets of the bed as you rolled your hips for Sam, smiling when he groaned softly, his own hips moving against the bed.

 

He moved his hands, spreading your pussy lips before diving in, lapping at your clit before running circles around it with his tongue.  It was like magic.  You couldn’t stop the moans that escaped you as he worked his tongue around and on your clit, sucking on it lightly at random intervals.  “S-Sam,” you whispered, lowering your hands to his hair and giving it a soft tug, knowing exactly what he liked.  He groaned loudly as you giggled.

 

Sam reached a hand up, pressing two fingers to your entrance and pushing them in slowly.  “Oh fuck, you’re so wet for me.”  He pushed them in to the knuckles before pulling out and pushing right back in.

 

You stuck your tongue out slightly as you wiggled your hips, trying to get him to hit your sweet spot.  He took the hint, arching his fingers upward and hitting it head on, making a loud moan escape as your toes curled slightly.  “Shit!” you exclaimed, fingers tangling in his hair and giving another sharp tug that made him arch his fingers upward once more.

 

He lapped at your clit once more before lifting his head, saliva trailing down his chin.  “Do you like it when I do that?” he asked softly, hitting that spot again.

 

You didn’t trust yourself to talk, so you just nodded, sitting up enough to grab him by the back of the neck and pull him back down, your lips crashing together in a heated kiss.  You could taste yourself on him, nearly making you gag.  It wasn’t all that sexy, but with everything Sam was doing to you, you didn’t much care.

 

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, wet sounds filling the room as you stayed lip-locked with him, both of you moaning into one another.  Soon enough, though, you wanted more.  You wanted his cock inside you.  You wanted to be one with Sam.  

 

You pulled away from the kiss, nearly gasping for breath.  You felt close and you didn’t want to stop, but you needed this and knew he did too.  “I want your cock,” you whispered, not even blushing at your own words.  The need was too great.

 

Sam nodded, getting up and rifling through the suitcases, cursing when he couldn’t find the lube, but doing with lotion.  It wasn’t desirable, but he’d used it many times when jerking off, you knew that.  He came back to the bed and spurted some on his hand, spreading it over his rock-hard dick before positioning himself at your entrance.  “Ready?” he asked.

 

You nodded, relaxing your muscles as he pushed inside you slowly, not stopping until he was balls-deep in your pussy.  Your heads tilted back in pleasure and you laughed softly.  Sam leaned down, kissing your chest before taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it as he began thrusting, pulling out and pushing back in, quickly picking up a rhythm.

 

The fact that you had waited so long to do this made you angry at yourself.  You’d been missing so much with Sam.  The way his arms wrapped around you and pulled you up into his lap as he thrust up into you, the way he growled like an animal as he peppered your neck with kisses.  You could tell he wanted to lose himself, but he forced himself to be gentle, for you.  It was all for you.

 

You pressed your hands against Sam’s shoulders, bracing yourself on your knees as you began bouncing on his cock.  On his lap, you could feel him going deeper, making your eyes roll into the back of your head as loose moans escaped your throat.

 

“You’re so beautiful.  You’re perfect,” Sam whispered in your ear before nibbling at the lobe.  The words caused tears to jump to your eyes as the feeling of your orgasm began to crash over you.  You hadn’t even realized how close it had been until you were already there, screaming into his chest and rocking your hips back and forth.  

 

Your tightening around him sent Sam over the edge as well.  He gave two more hard thrusts up into you before he shot his load inside you, turning into a moaning mess as he did so.  And, despite being tired, despite your chests heaving and sweat pouring off your bodies, you pulled off him and got on your hands and knees, reaching back and opening yourself up for him.  He chuckled, pushing three fingers inside you and pumping them in and out of you, hitting your spot head-on every time.

 

“Fuck, Sam,” you moaned loudly, addicted to everything about him.  His cock, his fingers, his body.  Just- him.  All of him.  You could hear the wet sounds filling the room, something that would’ve embarrassed you, but you knew he found it sexy by the way he leaned against you, his cock hard once more, and it didn’t bother you as much.

 

He removed his fingers and pushed his cock into your heat once more, wasting no time in pounding into you, running his hand down your scarred back before holding your hips to make it easier for him to push his cock into you, going deeper, deeper until you both lost yourselves again.

 

The bed was practically soaked with sweat and come by the time you had finished.  Sam pulled the sheets off before you collapsed together, you on your side and Sam pressed against you, his arms wrapping around you and kissing at your neck and back.  “I love you.”

 

“I love you too, Sam,” you smiled.

 

It had taken years, but you’d finally gotten to this point.  The point of love and happiness, the point that most said hunters could never have.  But you’d found it, and you found it with Sam Winchester.


End file.
